


Five Miles and A Leotard

by Kurokosou



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Idk what i'm doing, M/M, Oneshot, Pining Matt, idk what else to tag, lance is flexible, pidge's appearance is brief, running partners, shiro is a little shit, silly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13679481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurokosou/pseuds/Kurokosou
Summary: Matt decided that he hated running; running was evil, the devil's tool and a torture method specifically designed to make people like him suffer. So why was he still running? Well, if it meant being able to catch a quick glimpse of the cute leotard-wearing guy at the park, no matter how much self-inflicted pain he put himself through, maybe running wasn't so bad.





	Five Miles and A Leotard

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this idea came from honestly, other than the fact it's Valentine's day and I really wanted some Matt/Lance stuff...

 

When Matt had asked Shiro to help plan a workout regimen for him, he should’ve known he’d be dragged through hell and back – and it was only the first day. Waking up at an ungodly hour was no problem; Matt could handle getting up at the crack of dawn, though he did need at least two cups of coffee to effectively function. Trying to run a mile at a consistent jog, no matter how slow-paced it was – not so easy. Matt had to stop, panting heavily as he leaned over to plant his hands on his knees; Shiro was several feet ahead of him, yelling back at him words of encouragement, saying he got this. Matt wanted to glare holes into the other man’s skull, for once not really appreciating the unending optimism. A heavy sigh escaped him, slowly straightening back up once he managed to get his breathing mostly even; he knew Shiro wasn’t going to let him quit till he finished this run, so he steeled himself to press on, even if he’d be dead at the end of the run.

Before Matt could begrudgingly continue his jog, a sweeping motion caught his attention from his peripheral vision, jerking his head around to the source. Because really, it was nearly six-thirty in the morning and who the heck would be in the park so early – besides his idiotic self and the running machine ahead of him. His breath stopped at the sight, eyeing the young man standing on his tiptoes, back arched slightly and arms raised above his head like he was reaching for the sky.

He was tall with a rather lanky frame, his skin the colour of warm caramel and short light brown locks with a golden tint of highlights. There was a serene look of peace on the man’s rounded face, eyes closed and Matt noticed the white wireless earpieces the man was sporting; he could only guess they were playing some kind of relaxing music. The man was wearing a baby-blue crop top, an obnoxiously bright pink word printed across the front, but Matt couldn’t really make it out from this distance; and he was wearing a black leotard – an actual leotard. Who the fuck wears one out in public? And actually makes it look decent?

Matt swallowed a breath, watching as the man slowly lowered his arms to his side, standing still for a moment before he stepped one foot forward, bending at the knee while keeping the back leg straight, arms raised out in front and back. He couldn’t believe it – someone was actually doing yoga in the middle of a very open, very public park and in a fucking leotard, of all things. He didn’t really have much time to ponder on this mysterious stranger, hearing Shiro shouting out to him again to pick up the pace. Matt groaned, rubbing his hands over his face once he managed to tear his eyes away from the man, starting up his jog again to catch up with Shiro. The other gave him a smile, gently nudging Matt’s arm saying they were almost done, after this Matt could go home and get a shower before heading to work; Matt grimaced, not looking forward to sitting in a cramped IT office while his leg muscles would no doubt be screaming at him.

Shiro took off ahead of him, Matt biting back the pained whimper as he followed behind; his mind wondered back briefly to the leotard man, wondering why he chose to do his workout in the middle of the park, why he was awake so early in the morning – and how often he came to the park to do said workout. Matt shook his head at that last thought; no, no he wasn’t about to become completely infatuated with an unknown stranger he just happened to pass by on his first run. The Holts were people of logic and reason; they didn’t fall to irrationality and spontaneous actions. He was brought back to reality by Shiro’s voice, words of encouragement and positivity carrying through the air; Matt wanted to growl, but kept it to a small mutter, forcing his legs to keep moving one step at a time.

“Next time I’m asking Keith…”

-9-

Matt had been sore all that week, his leg muscles would sting whenever he tried going up and down stairs, or even just getting up from a chair. It didn’t help that his office desk was obscurely small, making it difficult to stretch out his legs when he needed to. He decided that running was the devil’s tool, a torture method used to make people like him suffer unnecessary pain. And yet, here he was again, week two with Shiro on the same path, at the same park and once again stopping to catch his breath. His legs were burning, letting out a strangled huff of pain as he practically squatted on the ground. Why was he doing this again? He had already concluded that running sucked balls, and he had learned that there are plenty of other, less excruciating exercises he could do to build stamina.

Matt knew why he was doing this, why he was willing to torment himself as pale brown eyes scanned the open plains of the park. Once again, standing by the lone tree the mystery leotard man was there, a dark blue yoga mat spread out across the grass, eyes closed and stretching his arms above his head. It was stupid, he knew, but secretly Matt hoped to see the man again; he theorized that leotard man probably kept a consistent workout schedule, so it was logical to assume he’d be at the park again. Of course that moment last week could’ve been a one-time deal thing, like trying out something new, but judging from how relaxed and open the man was, made it seem like this was a regular thing for him. Seems like this theory was correct and once again Matt found himself entranced with this stranger.

He watched as the man lowered his arms to his side, half expecting him to go into a lunge like last time; Matt tried not to choke as the man bend over at the waist, his forehead practically touching his knees as he slid his hands down to hold the back of his ankles. Holy fuck was this guy flexible; he didn’t even think it was possible for a human to bend that far. Matt could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as the man held his position for a few minutes before finally releasing his ankles; he walked his hands forward, walking his feet back till he was positioned into an upside down “V” shape. The downward dog – he remembered that move from what little he looked up about yoga; Matt tried not to groan at his own brain’s train of thought, burying his face in his knees in embarrassment.

The sound of Shiro’s voice quickly snapped Matt out of his daze, quickly jerking his head up to see his friend still waiting several feet ahead of him. Matt scrambled to his feet, hissing at the stinging in his legs before trudging on forward, slowly coming up to Shiro’s side. The smile quickly faded from Shiro’s face, a look of concern taking its place as he reached a hand out for Matt’s shoulder.

“Are you okay buddy? You look a little flushed,” Shiro noted.

“I-I’m fine! L-let’s just get this over with,” Matt stuttered out, cursing himself out for blushing so easily. He ignored the burning in his thighs as he took off ahead, Shiro blinking after him with a confused look before he shook it off and jogged after the redhead. It didn’t take long for Shiro to catch up to him, still eyeing his friend with concern, but seeing the disgruntled expression on Matt’s face eased his worry a little. He had to chuckle a little as Matt muttered under his breath about how evil running is and how he vowed he was never doing this again.

-9-

“You’re an idiot.”

“Why yes, thank you Captain Obvious,” Matt scoffed, not even bothering to lift his head from the pillow. Pidge just rolled their eyes at him, not-so-gently poking at their brother’s side with their finger; Matt flinched by otherwise didn’t move from his spot on the bed. He was too sore to really move and frankly he didn’t really want to; he decided to take a personal day from work, give his poor abused leg muscles a chance to recover before they had to be cramped up again. Pidge just shook their head, turning back to their laptop and typed away at the keys.

“I can’t believe you’re willing to torment yourself just to see a cute guy in the park,” they huffed. Matt actually managed to lift his head up to turn and stare at his younger sibling; so far they were the only one who knew about Matt’s little – dilemma.

“No kidding – and he wears a fuckin’ leotard, like an actual spandex leotard! Who the hell wears that shit in public?!”

“Technically it’s called a ‘unitard’ since it covers his legs too,” Pidge corrected, not looking up from their laptop screen.

“Whatever, its spandex, one piece and skintight,” Matt grumbled, burying his face back into his pillow. Four weeks – once a week, because his body couldn’t take running more than once – he and Shiro had done their usual mile run through the park and finished at a small café just a block or two away. Matt still hated running, it was still an evil torture device as far as he was concern and that opinion wasn’t going to change soon. And yet no matter how much pain he put himself through, how much his legs burned and ached from the exertion, he still kept on going. The fact he was still doing these runs just so he could see leotard man for a few minutes sounded like an exaggeration, but that was really all there was to it. It was kind of terrifying, actually – that his sole motivation for his self-torment was simply to catch a glimpse of leotard man, doing his yoga routine in the park at six in the morning.

Matt let out a deep sigh, the sound muffled by his pillow; he still couldn’t believe how quickly he was falling for this mysterious stranger. The way his face looked so calm and soft, wireless earpieces tuning out the world around him, leaving him with nothing but peace; the way shaggy chocolate locks would cascade around his eyes whenever he bend over or lean to the side; the way lithe limbs stretched and bend, the lean body twisting and folding into positions that shouldn’t be humanly possible. Matt could feel a blush coming to his cheeks, glad he was face down in his pillow so Pidge wouldn’t see it; the last two occasions he may have found himself staring a little too long at the man’s ass. Skintight leotards – unitards didn’t really leave much to the imagination.

“Hey here’s a crazy idea – why don’t you ask the guy for his number, that way you can meet him whenever you want and you don’t have to kill yourself over him,” Pidge suggested. Matt shot his head up from the pillow, narrowing his eyes at the shit-eating grin on the younger redhead’s face.

“ _Yeeeah_ , no that’s a terrible idea,” Matt answered flatly.

“Right, because running is _sooo_ much easier than chatting up the cute guy,” Pidge snorted, sarcasm heavy in their voice.

“He wears wireless earpieces! And his eyes are always closed!”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he hasn’t noticed you ogling his ass for five minutes.”

“I do not ogle!” Matt retorted, pushing himself up to a sitting position just so he could throw his hands up in the air out of frustration. Pidge just laughed, clinging to their laptop so it wouldn’t slip off their lap and crash to the floor; Matt sulked, flopping back onto his bed as he waited for his sibling to calm down.

“But seriously Matt, I think you should try talking to him. Sounds like you’re in pretty deep,” Pidge encouraged, a serious smile on their face.

“I’ve seen him like four times – can’t be that deep…” Matt mumbled, not daring to look them in the eye.

“You literally ran four miles over the course of four weeks just to get a _glimpse_ of him…” Pidge reminded with a deadpan face. He choose not to respond to that, instead letting out a grunt as he shifted his position on the bed, turning to lie on his side with his back to Pidge. The younger redhead just rolled their eyes, shaking their head and turned back to their laptop; they were in the middle of an essay when Matt needed to rant about his “crisis”. Matt let the clicks of the keys fill the silence between them, thinking over what Pidge had said; part of him did want to get close to leotard man, if only to get his name. It felt rude to keep referring to him as the “leotard man” all the time – or yoga man, but that wasn’t really much better. At the same time, Matt was intimidated by him; he was just so gorgeous in comparison to him, flawless tan skin glowing in the rising sunlight, the slight golden hue highlights that lit up brown hair, limber limbs that could go on for miles…

Matt shook the thoughts from his head; he was being ridiculous and Pidge was right. He should just suck it up and talk to leotard man; he was a Holt, damnit. They were daring and stubborn and certainly didn’t let illogical fears hold them back in any situations. Alright it was decided then – next week when he does the usual run with Shiro, he’ll talk to leotard man and get his name and…maybe hopefully his number too, if he was interested.

-9-

It was a little chilly this morning, but it didn’t deter Shiro in the least or dampen his chirpy attitude. Matt didn’t understand how someone could be so cheery and energetic so early in the morning without the aid of caffeine. They went down the usually route, starting at Shiro’s apartment building making their way to the park and planning to finish the course at the café. As usually, Matt had to stop and catch his breath, rubbing his complaining leg muscles, hoping to ease the aching pain. Of course there was another reason why Matt stopped, taking several minutes to compose himself and look half-way decent. Light brown eyes glanced around and sure enough there he was – under the same lone tree, yoga mat spread out and in his usual black unitard and blue crop top.

Matt’s mouth suddenly felt dry and not because he had just ran half a mile or so; leotard man was doing his usual arm stretch above his head before he glided into another pose with ease. Matt gently slapped his own cheeks, trying to psyche himself up, telling himself to just go over, get the man’s attention without scaring the shit out of him and say hi. Simple right, just go over and say hello. His legs refused to move, feeling whatever confidence he had managed to build up the night before slip away like water down the drain. He was so wrapped up with his internal conflict he didn’t hear Shiro calling out to him; he didn’t even realise the other had backtracked to him till a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Matt let out a startled noise, nearly jumping a foot in the air as he whipped around to face Shiro, the other only blinking.

“…okay, that was strange. Are you sure you’re okay, Matt?” Shiro asked curiously, raising a thick brow at the redhead. Matt flushed, nodding his head as he quickly pushed past the other, his dilemma forgotten as he ran off. He was mentally kicking himself for wimping out like that; he could already hear Pidge’s exasperated voice in his head, already knowing what they’d say once he told them what happened. Matt sighed, the ache in his chest outweighing the ache in his legs; maybe next week he’d have better luck at talking to the mystery yoga man. He hadn’t noticed that Shiro didn’t immediately catch up to him, the dark-haired man simply watching him run ahead before he surveyed the area, storm-grey eyes spotting a familiar figure standing by a tree.

It took a moment for Shiro to fit the pieces together, a mischievous grin coming to his face as he took off after Matt, easily coming up to his side within seconds. Matt seemed too wrapped up in his head to really notice his presence, Shiro feeling a small pang of sympathy for his friend for a moment before it was replaced with a giddy feeling. He was going to have way too much fun with this. Once they left the park, Shiro nudged Matt with his elbow, telling him to take the next left instead of the usual right, which would lead them right to the café they always finished at. The redhead only raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing his friend with a skeptical look; Shiro laughed, saying it was still the same distance, just a different ending location.

Matt pondered the sudden change in route, but decided he didn’t really care at this point and so took the next left turn as per directed. Shiro stopped them in front of a quaint little juice bar, a decent crowd already filling up the tables and stools inside despite that it was only seven or so in the morning. Matt only glanced at Shiro with an incredulous smile, elbowing the man in the side.

“A juice bar? Really? What the hell, Shiro,” Matt teased.

“Thought we try something different today – besides all that coffee can’t be good for you,” Shiro lectured.

“Oh please, pretty sure 66% of my blood is caffeine at this point; and if you think I’m bad, you should see the rest of my family,” Matt retorted, already making his way to the door. Now that he was no longer focused on his failed attempt at greeting the cute leotard guy, his legs were screaming at him to sit down. Shiro followed behind him, both men approaching the counter and glancing up at the menu above the order counter. Matt squinted as he read the items on the menu and the list of ingredients in them – who the heck mixes beet root and celery with apple? He finally found something that didn’t sound too horrible called “berry explosion”, Shiro ordering something called “green tides”? Matt didn’t question it.

Matt went to go grab a table while Shiro waited for their drinks to be made, snagging one near the window as the previous patron got up to leave. He slid into the colorful plastic seat with a groan, immediately slumping over the table surface on his arms. He tried not to think about the disaster he was earlier and how epically pathetic he was; he couldn’t even force himself to move, completely paralyzed by – by what? Fear? Anxiety? Intimidation? Matt let out a silent whine, lifting his head up so he could rub his face with his hands. Next time, definitely he was going to succeed, even if he had to spend the whole week prepping himself up and rehearsing an imaginary scenario if he had to.

A few minutes later Shiro sat down with their juices, handing a pink-blue concoction to Matt, a bright green one in his own hand. Matt eyed the green liquid with slight disgust – there was no way something _that_ green could taste good in any way. Shiro just laughed, saying it tasted a lot better than it looked, offering a sip to the redhead. Matt made a face, immediately shoving the cup away from him; no way in hell he was going to put something mixed with kale inside his mouth. Shiro just shrugged, saying he was missing out before taking a sip from his straw. Matt just stuck his tongue out before taking a sip from his own straw, the pink liquid icy cold, but sweet tasting – it was actually quite refreshing after a mile run.

They sat in silence, the morning chatter filling the air around them as they slurped away at their own juices. A small curiosity was burning in Matt, wondering why Shiro decided to take them to this juice bar instead of the usual café; he knew Shiro well enough to know the man liked his routine. Once he had a pattern set, he usually stuck to it like clockwork, rarely ever deviating from it unless he was forced to. The redhead glanced over to his friend, playing with his straw with his tongue; storm-grey eyes finally matched light brown, a sudden smirk splaying across his face. Matt narrowed his eyes at Shiro, giving the man a stern frown as he pulled the straw away from his mouth.

“Okay, what are you up to?” he demanded.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Shiro answered nonchalantly, not even bothering to cover up the smirk.

“I know you, Shiro and I know you’re planning something; you drag us out to this juice bar even though we always go to the café on the other side, and now you’re sitting there grinning like a cat,” Matt elaborated, giving the man a scrutinizing glare. “There’s no way you’re _not_ planning something, so you might as well come cle–!!”

Matt suddenly cut his own words short, eyes going wide as his jaw slacked as a familiar figure swept past the corner of his eyes. Walking up to the juice counter was the one and only leotard man, his yoga mat rolled up, packed away in a carrier bag and slung across his shoulder. Matt gapped like a fish out of water, finally closing his mouth shut as his eyes roamed over the man; he wasn’t wearing the leotard or the crop-top, but a pair of grey sweats and a three-quarter sleeve white tee. Where the heck did he even get changed? Public bathrooms were definitely not the most spacious – or the most sanitary, and even if the park was practically empty of life this early in the morning, he doubted the man was daring enough to change out in the open. Then Matt noticed the collar of the tee sliding down the man’s shoulder, revealing a tell-tale sign of a black strap – he was still wearing the leotard underneath his ensemble.

For some reason that knowledge made Matt gulp, suddenly finding it hard to string a cohesive train of thought; he watched as leotard man ordered his drink, idly playing with the strap of his carrier bag while he waited. He flashed the cashier a pleasant smile as he was handed his juice cup, giving the girl a wave before turning around to find a place to sit. Matt was sure his heart stop when the man’s gaze settled on their table, nearly melting at the brilliant smile that suddenly lit up tanned features. He tried not to squawk as the man approached them, reaching a hand out for the empty chair at their table.

“Hey, this seat taken?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Shiro answered before Matt could even register the question. The brunet smiled, carefully pulling the plastic chair out so he could slide into the seat with ease, setting his yoga mat down on the floor and turned to them with a friendly smile.

“Haven’t seen you around here for a while; thought maybe you finally got sick of this place,” the brunet teased, flashing Shiro a grin. The dark-haired man only chuckled, stirring his straw around the green concoction sitting in his cup.

“Nah, this place is still the only place that can make kale taste fantastic; I’ve just haven’t had time to really swing by,” Shiro explained. The other only hummed in response before shifting his gaze to the silent redhead sitting across from him; blue – his eyes were a deep, almost hypnotic blue and Matt decided right then and there that blue was his favourite colour from now on.

“So, this guy is your new running partner now?” Mr. Blue eyes asked.

“Something like that; this is Matt, he’s a good friend of mine,” Shiro introduced, trying to hold back his laughter. Matt had sat flabbergasted over the fact that the cute guy he’s been low-key crushing on for five weeks now was actually talking to him. Well maybe not to him directly, but still this was closest he’s ever gotten to the walking artwork that was this man. The redhead heard his name come up among the static that was filtering through his ears, quickly snapping to attention as he realised that those sparkling sapphire eyes were staring at him.

“Yes! Hi! I’m Matt Holt!” he blurted out. Matt inwardly groaned as the words left his mouth; of course the man knew his name. Shiro just literally introduced him two seconds ago. He mentally cursed at his own brain; now was not the time to be experiencing a sudden malfunction. The other just laughed and the sound was sweet like honey and soft like silk, covering over Matt as if it had an actual physical form. If he hadn’t been a lifeless puddle of goop before, he most certainly was now.

“Well nice to meet you, Matt Holt. I’m Lance,” the brunet introduced, reaching a hand over the table. Matt hesitated for a split second before he quickly shot his hand out to take the one offered to him, giving it a brief shake, fumbling a little with his words. The smile on Lance’s face widened, Matt feeling a heat rising in his cheeks as he withdrew his hand, immediately staring down at his cup to fiddle with the straw.

“So whatever happened to your other running partner? The one with the mullet?” Lance asked, turning his attention back to Shiro.

“You mean Keith? He said running on the treadmill at the gym was easier than running with me, so that’s what he’s been doing,” Shiro answered, shrugging his shoulders as he took a sip from his own cup.

“Seriously? Geeze, are you some kind of slave driver or something?” Lance teased, lightly punching Shiro on the arm. Before the dark-haired man could answer Matt cut into the conversation.

“He’s a nightmare… Pretty sure Shiro isn’t even human; he could probably do a triathlon and not break a sweat,” the redhead scoffed. He felt pretty damn pleased at the slightly flustered expression that appeared on Shiro’s face, the man complaining that he wasn’t _that_ bad. Lance only laughed as the two bantered back and forth, turning his attention to Matt.

“If he’s such a nightmare, why are you running with him?” he asked the redhead curiously. This time Shiro beat him to the punch, a devious little smirk spreading across his face as he spoke.

“Matt asked me to help him with a workout plan; said he was tired of being a scrawny nerd,” Shiro stated plainly.

“I-I said no such thing!” Matt stammered, turning red to his ears.

“I do believe your exact words were ‘Shiro I’m fuckin’ sick of being a gangling nerd, make me ripped so I can pick up girls’.”

“I hate you so much right now…” Matt whined, feeling the heated blush spread down his neck and to his shoulders, attempting to hide behind his hands. Lance let out a rather boisterous laugh, falling back against the chair as he slid forward in his seat.

“Love you too, Matt,” Shiro answered back, putting an innocent smile on his face as he finished off the rest of his juice. He flicked his wrist to shake his watch, glancing at the time before he stood up from his chair. “Ah sorry gotta go – still need to wash up before I head to work.”

“Alright, it was nice chatting with you again, Shiro. Hope we can do this again,” Lance waved once he had settled down his laughing. Shiro nodded, turning to Matt and having the audacity to wink at him before grabbing his empty plastic cup to toss it into the rubbish bin and left the juice bar. All the while, Matt was secretly plotting the other man’s ultimate and justified demise, wondering if he could drag Pidge – and maybe Keith – into helping him pull off his plans. He was lost in his thoughts for a few minutes, before a scrapping noise drew his attention, eyes focusing on Lance as the other stirred the contents of his cup around. It suddenly hit the redhead that he was now sitting with Lance alone, quickly taking a peek at his watch to check the time; he was now cursing Shiro out for an entirely different reason.

It was barely seven-thirty and Shiro didn’t work till nine and Matt knew for a fact that the other could make it back to his apartment in less than ten minutes on his own. He purposefully left them alone together and Matt’s stomach was doing flips at the thought; what was he supposed to do now? Try to save what little dignity he had left? Should he try to joke and lighten the mood? Should he just finish his juice quickly and excuse himself? Or would that be too rude? Should he even attempt making small talk with Lance?

“So Matt – tell me a little about yourself?” Lance’s voice slipped through the endless barrage of questions that were running rampant through his head, giving the brunet a daze look.

“I – what?” he managed to squeak out. Lance leaned his elbows forward on the table, a playful smile lighting up his face; god lord Matt could get lost in those smiles for hours.

“You know, like what you do for a living, hobbies, interests – the usual,” Lance elaborated, making a circle motion with his hand.

“Oh, uh, I work as an IT consultant for some big wing company,” Matt answered sheepishly.

“Oh that’s gotta be fun; let me guess, half the time your superiors don’t know shit what they’re doing with their computers, right?”

“You have no idea; I swear some of these guys shouldn’t even _touch_ a computer,” Matt grimaced, recalling several headache inducing incidents he had to fix. “There was this one guy who crashed his entire system because he opened up an email that claimed to be from his ‘bank management’ and needed his attention.”

“Oh my god, everyone knows to _never_ open those kinds of emails,” Lance half laughed half groaned.

“Right?! He wasn’t even an old guy – he was my age!” Matt snorted, waving his hands wildly in the air as he spoke. The nervousness was slowly melting away, the tightness in his body slipping into a more relaxed position as his shoulders slouched. Lance was surprisingly easy to talk to. “What about you? How do you earn your keep?”

“I’m a dance instructor over at the local dance school near here,” Lance answered, churning his straw in his bright red juice mixture.

“Dance huh? So do you like, do ballet or something?” Matt questioned, raising a curious brow at the brunet.

“Yeah that’s one of the dances I help teach, but I’m more into the more upbeat and lively dances like tango and salsa; I prefer my moves to be more – passionate,” Lance practically purred that last word out, flashing the redhead a flirty grin. Matt felt a lump get stuck in his throat, finding it hard to swallow or form a word beyond a simple ‘oh’ noise; wait was Lance actually flirting with him, or was he just acting like that to make a point. He cleared his throat in hopes to push the lump in his throat away, deciding to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Uh, so um – how do you and Shiro know each other? I mean, I didn’t think a dance instructor and an event planner would cross paths that often?” Matt asked. Honestly he really didn’t want to think about Shiro and the little shit he had been earlier, but he was curious – and maybe a little jealous – about how the two seemed to know each other.

“Oh, uh we met in the same park, actually,” Lance began to explain, suddenly looking a little flustered. “I was having a pretty bad night and got locked out of my apartment, so I kinda just – spent the night on the benches being miserable. Shiro was just doing his usual morning run and offered to help me out; he picked the lock to my door which saved me the trouble of having to break it down.”

“…Shiro picked a lock?” Matt bemused. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with this information yet, but he had a feeling it would make good material for something in the future. Lance let out a sheepish laugh, reaching a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Yeah, he did. I – maaay have had a tiny crush on him back then, which is why I kept striking up so many conversations with him,” Lance admitted, a light tint of pink colouring his cheeks. Matt felt his heart clench just a little at the confession, the smile fading from his face as he turned his eyes down to the now luke-warm plastic cup in his hands.

“I – I guess you’re more into the stocky, jock types huh…” the words left his mouth before he could stop them, coming out more like a statement than a question.

“I admit I do like those muscles, but I like my cute, stuttering nerds too,” Lance stated. Matt snapped his head up at his words, mouth open and eyes wide as he was greeted by a playful and flirty smile. He seemed stumped for a moment, definitely and absolutely certain this time of Lance’s intentions, and yet he still pointed a finger at himself, like he couldn’t believe it was actually happening. The brunet chuckled, nodding his head as if he understood the silent question the redhead was asking him; it was adorable. A loud beeping from Lance’s persons startled them both, Lance reaching into his pant pocket to pull out his phone and check his alarms.

“Argh, sorry I gotta run, or I’m gonna miss my bus! See you again after your next run?” Lance inquired. Matt could only nod his head, watching as the other man downed the rest of his juice, bend over to pick up his yoga bag and move to stand up from the chair. The functions of Matt’s brain suddenly kicked back in, quickly reaching a hand out for the brunet’s wrist as he blurted out.

“Would it be okay to have your number?”

Lance blinked for a moment before a smile lit up his face, holding his phone out to the other so he could type his number in. Matt tried to keep his hands steady as he typed in his contact details, knowing that Lance was probably in a hurry and the last thing he wanted to do was drop the other’s phone because of bumbling hands. Once he finished typing his number in, he handed the device back to Lance, their fingers touching briefly during the exchange; Matt couldn’t help but blush at the warm touch, seeing a wide smirk dance across Lance’s face. Lance waved over his shoulder as he left, tossing his empty cup into the rubbish bin and then he was out the door. Matt watched him through the window, watching the brunet jog off to the bus stop. He sat in silent reprieve, the last twenty minutes or so replaying in his head over and over again.

He got Lance’s number – and Lance seemed interested in him?! A goofy grin slowly spread across Matt’s face, a feeling of euphoria pulsing through his body as the reality finally set in. He was so tempted to jump out of his seat and do some sort of happy dance, but he still had enough common sense to _not_ do that. Matt glanced down at his own watch, letting out a small curse before he gulped down what was left of his juice and scrambled from the chair to throw the cup away and head out the door. He was going to be late for work. Despite the burning pain in his legs, he managed to jog most of the way back home, not even bothering to check if Pidge was at their classes as he bolted for his room, grabbed his work clothes and hopped into the shower.

By the time he had finished with his shower, blow dried his hair and changed, he most definitely was late for work. Matt huffed, before racing around the flat to grab his work bag, checking to make sure he had his wallet, phone and keys, checking the flat one last time to make sure everything was off and then he was out the door. As he settled onto the bus seat, he pulled out his phone to send a quick message to his supervisor, saying he was running a little later than usual this morning. He was probably going to get chewed out when he got to the office, but other than that Matt wasn’t really worried. Plenty of the other guys have been late on numerous occasions and they were still there. His phone buzzed with an incoming message, expecting it to be from his supervisor, so he was surprised when he saw it was an unknown number.

_[8:45am] unknown contact: Hey, its Lance ;-) figured I text you so you can save my num too._

_[8:46am] unknown contact: If you’re not busy this Sat, maybe we could get lunch together?_

Matt couldn’t stop the grin that took up half his face, quickly sending a reply back to Lance that he would love to meet up for lunch. They texted back and forth for a few minutes to work out the details and the timing before Lance had to go, sending his last message off with a heart emote that struck right through Matt’s own heart. He was looking forward to their lunch date and getting to know the man a little more. He put his phone away after saving Lance’s number, not caring if he got a reply back from his supervisor or not, a smile plastered on his face. Matt supposed he’d have to thank Shiro later for his meddling – after he hacked his Netflix account and cancelled his entire movie queue.


End file.
